The sound was as much of a problem as the lights. It pounded at my ears and made the room feel like it was shaking, so I held on tightly to the armrests. Leah leaned her head into mine and I breathed in the smell of flowers and butter. One time she caught me staring and gave my hand a squeeze and then laid her head back next to mine and I breathed her in some more. I hated that I could still feel the flutters in my stomach, like I had swallowed a nest full of baby birds.

When the movie ended and the lights turned on, I felt shaky and disoriented. All I could think about was getting to the bathroom. We stood in line and everyone around me looked disheveled, like we had all taken a long nap together. Leah and Evelyn talked about the movie, but because I had spent most of my time staring at Leah, I didn’t have much to say so I just nodded my head.

The line moved slowly and it was hard for me to focus because I felt like I was going to pee in my pants. When I finally got into a stall, I squatted like my mother had taught me and tried not to let the sound of all the flushing toilets make my heart pound faster. I covered my ears, but all I could hear were the toilets flushing, one after the next, until the fluttering in my stomach leaped through my throat and into my head and bounced between my ears like a big hollow ping pong ball. I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked back and forth, trying to make it stop. Leah knocked on the door quietly and then more loudly. She called my name over and over, but I couldn’t answer.

I tried to remember how wonderful she smelled and how good I felt when I was with her. I wanted so much to make it stop, but I couldn’t move. I took some deep breaths, but that didn’t work either. So I started spelling, first the letters floating randomly in my head, then the graffiti written on the door of the stall. Leah was still calling out my name, her voice shaky, like it might break. I forced myself to bite down on my lip and make it stop long enough so that I could open the door.